Even Microwaves Get the Blues

I’ve cried twice today. I don’t know what it says about my character that I have no problem admitting that, but there it is. Twice. Me, actually having to grab a tissue and recompose myself crying.

The first time was while watching back this past week’s performance show of So You Think You Can Dance. Yes, reality TV made me cry. I’ll give you a moment to digest that. A piece by choreographer Travis Wall about helping his mother through sickness struck a little close to home. And so there I was on the sofa, in tears. That would end up being the least absurd of the two moments.

The second was at my trip to the recycling center. It really should have been a mundane task. The microwave quit working a couple of weeks ago. No idea why, it just did. The keypad wouldn’t work and it wouldn’t turn on. So, we got a new one. No big deal, right? These things happen in 2010. Appliances break. You get a new one.

So, I drove out Winchester Road to the Appliance Recycling Center. Now, I’ve only seen trailers for Wall-E, but in my best guess the ARC is exactly what the world of that film looks like. Nothing but discarded and broken appliances in various conditions sitting everywhere. The place was all heaps of metal sitting in piles with the occasional discernible object like a refrigerator door jutting out of the side. I pulled up and asked two guys working under the hood of a semi what I needed to do. I was instructed to drive to the other side where I’d see a refrigerator. I was told to just leave my microwave there.

I did as I was told. I then laid the microwave down with his cord wrapped up all nicely and got back in the car. That’s when it started. I looked out the window and saw my little microwave there and I lost it. I unabashedly bawled. True story: I’m beginning to again as I type this.

I wish I could say that it was some environmental guilt. That seeing the wastefulness of our society and knowing I was contributing to it had moved me. That wasn’t it. While the scenery was striking, it didn’t touch me quite that way. It wasn’t the realization of how transient and temporary everything, including people, really are. However, it wouldn’t take too poetic a mind to get there. I truly felt like I was abandoning something. Like I was leaving a puppy on the side of the road to fend for itself.

I’ve always had a sickness for giving feelings to inanimate objects. And yes, the good English major in me knows the word (anthropomorphism) and that’s truly what it was. I was sure my little microwave was feeling sad, knowing his fate. He was going from being in a happy, climate controlled home, to sitting on asphalt beside a broken down Magic Chef side-by-side in 90 degree heat. I still feel guilt for discarding him so callously.

It’s something I’ve always done. I tried to play with toys as a kid an equal amount of time so one of them wouldn’t feel bad for not getting attention. I name my cars. I talk to the washing machine. I turn off my BlackBerry to give it a rest sometimes just because I feel like it would appreciate a break.

Maybe I’m letting my crazy get a little too public by actually posting this. Or maybe I’ll find out I’m not the only one who does this (you guys are out there, aren’t you?). For now, I’m back on the sofa wondering if I should name the new microwave and being very grateful that I hadn’t named the old one.

Birthday Girl

It was about a year ago that I had my first foray into the Twitterverse. The first “real” conversation I had on Twitter was regarding my pet peeve about Lexington, which is the downtown housing situation. I remember the conversation getting pretty heated and I remember both agreeing and the vehemently disagreeing with someone.

She was smart. She was sassy. She was opinionated. She was catty. I loved it.

After Donut Wars and a marathon Best of Lex/Gallery Hop night, I finally got to know the real Bluebelle in more than 140 characters. I found a kindred spirit who can be kind to fault, neurotic, passionate and a damned good time to hang out with. She can bake a cake, comment on trash tv, reference Romantic Literature, dance to a Gaga song, update her Twitter and get a localvore meal on the table for the kids all at the same time. AND she’ll do it in 4 inch heels, bitch. This is my/our Bluebelle.

And so this is just a quick post to say Happy Birthday, Rachel. I’m glad that the Twitter gods made sure we found each other.

Tonight's Poem

I started several little intros to this and eventually decided to scrap them all. So without further introduction, here's a poem I wrote tonight. I don't have a title yet.

sometimes, I hear the

church chimes ring

11 minutes slow

as a kid, I waited for

the 12 o'clock whistle

to echo off an Appalachian.

everything's always been

clockwise and spinning

you spring forward

you fall back

every a.m. is a pulsing beep

and I don't wear a watch

but my phone's always on

seconds click quietly

and then it's June 9, 2010

in the year of our Lord

when it's summer

but I'm still

feeling deciduous

while all those beeps

chimes and whistles

are silent.

and I realize that

I don't know the name

on my own business card

there's always been a

game of freeze tag

a tv game show

a class

a job

to get to

and even with only

memories of reminders

I fold the laundry

and talk about dinner

but sometimes, I hear the

church chimes ring

11 minutes slow

Verdict

So, we all recall that I sustained injury while voguing, yes?

After two weeks, it wasn't healing, so I went to see the doctor. X-rays were taken and all appeared well. However, my knee was still swollen and causing me a good bit of pain. So, I was referred to the orthopedic specialist. I saw him on Tuesday.

It turns out that I've been living with jacked up knees for a long time. While this isn't a revelation, I didn't quite know how bad it was. The short version is that the "soft tissue" in my knees have decided to develop such that they are pulling my kneecaps out. So, I just turn a bit and BAM, they dislocate. On top of that, I'm developing arthritis and I have lovely little bits of bone grinding off as I move my knee. You can see them in the x-rays the ortho guy took. It's like a snowglobe in my knee.

This of course has a few ramifications. First off, that goal of running a 5k near my 30th birthday...not gonna happen. It's probably all for the best that I got pissed off with running when a dog bit me and haven't been doing much of it lately. I can't imagine dislocating a kneecap while running down Old Vine. (I literally cringed while typing that).

It also means that a knee surgery is likely in my future. The doctor wants to cut me open, pull the soft tissue back where it's supposed to be and then hopefully cure my little dislocation problem. He seems to think this will fix the everything. I'm dubious. I read medical records from this particular facility all the time for work and it seems like they are kind of surgery happy. So, I'm pondering getting a second opinion.

For now, I'm opting for physical therapy. The doc says that they are going to "train me like Lance Armstrong for the Tour de France" to build up my leg muscles. The boyfriend says I'm getting my insurance to pay for a personal trainer. I have these great visions of out of shape, asthmatic me suddenly riding through the French countryside and grabbing a baguette from a bystander as I race through France on my little bike, flipping the bird to the Belgian team as I whizz past with my new, improved, non-dislocating knees.

In truth, I'll probably be lucky to make it through therapy without having to suck on my inhaler like a Bel-Ami fluffer. Though, I'm resolving to look at this positively. I'm getting in better shape before I turn 30, not that I'm 30 and falling apart. I mean, it's because of Madonna that I'm realizing how jacked up my knees are and she's pretty much the pinnacle of being old and fit, right? Right?

Strike a Pose

It’s been a bit on the heavy and depressing side here lately, hasn’t it? So, I thought I’d lighten up the mood a bit with a little story from my weekend.

We had a little gathering for the boyfriend’s graduation. We started out at a local hotel bar. It’s truly one of my favorite places in town. They do good drinks and it makes for excellent people watching. We hadn’t planned on it, but we ended up moving to another “gay-friendly” bar for a bit of an after party.

That’s when it happened.

I certainly wasn’t drunk. I’d only had one at our initial party and I’d only half of another one at our second bar. Only half, because a waiter decided to take it away before I was finished. Granted, I’d abandoned it to go dance, but we had plenty of people who were lingering around the area we’d claimed. And oh, but only if a stolen half-gone drink was my only problem.

I’d been ready to go for a bit. I’m old. I was tired. I can’t quite do a party into the late night. However, the boyfriend and Bluebelle had requested “Vogue” and wanted to stay there to at least dance to that song. So, the opening...snap..snap and whispers of “vogue...vogue...vogue” started to play. I decided that I’d just get through the song and then we’d go. I even decided that I’d be a good sport and stand in the middle of the dance floor and vogue. Because, I’m a superstar, yes that’s what I am, you know it.

We hadn’t quite gotten to the second chorus when I got jolted. Someone bumped into me. I don’t know who. All I know is my body went one way and my knee went the other. When that happened, my right knee cap dislocated. I grabbed onto Bluebelle (I don’t think she noticed) to quickly steady myself. I didn’t wanna fall right there in front of God, the gays and everybody.

I found a stool to sit down on, collected myself and limped back to where we were camped out. We went home where my knee has continued to swell and hurt. I can’t really walk down stairs and I have a pretty visible limp. My knee is still swollen after much ibuprofen and ice.

I know I’m fine. I’ve dislocated about 20 knee caps in my life. I’m just resting as much as possible and I’m alternating between heat and ice. I’m staying off of it as much as I can. But come on, I’ve reached a whole new level of gay. I’ve suffered injury while voguing.

Why, Georgetown, Why

"I am driving

85 in the

kind of morning

that last's all afternoon

just stuck inside the gloom

4 more exits to

my apartment, but

I am tempted to

keep the car in drive

just leave here for awhile

cuz I wonder sometimes

about the outcome

of a still

verdictless life

am I livin' it right?

--"Why, Georgia Why"--John Mayer

I had a deja vu moment this weekend. It was a beautiful Saturday morning in May. I was driving North on Highway 25 in my silver car to Georgetown to attend graduation at Georgetown College. I'd made this exact drive in May of 2002 and I was doing it again in 2010. It was my graduation then and the boyfriend's this past weekend.

The similarities were striking. The weather was nearly identical. The graduation happened on the same lawn in front of Giddings Hall. I saw many of the same professors. I'm sure the President of the college read the same script. Even the thoughts in my head were same.

Back in 2002, when I crossed the bridge over I-75 I was listening to the song that's quoted up there. It seemed relevant. I'd just came out to my mom a few months prior and was struggling with that mess. After not getting into grad school, I was trying to figure out what the hell I wanted to do with my life and feeling completely lost. My life certainly felt verdictless and I was wondering not only if I was making the right choices, but also trying to figure out what choices and paths were even possible.

This past weekend, as I crossed the bridge over I75 that same song ran through my head. Eight years later and I'm still dealing with the coming out mess with my mom and still trying to figure out what I want to do. My life is still verdictless.

I'll turn 30 exactly 3 months from today. I feel like I've completely wasted the past 8 years. I'm in exactly the same spot I was in back in 2002. I have a job that I hate, but have to stay in because it pays decently. And I still have no clue as to what I want to do.

I've been asked the question about what I want to do a few times lately by well meaning friends. I always feel embarrassed that I don't have an answer. Shouldn't I have already figured out my passion by now? I mean, I'm not getting any younger here.

Yes, I like to write, but I don't think the world needs another aspiring writer. Yes, I like fashion, but how the hell do you get a job doing that? Plus, I'm colorblind and that's gotta be an issue. I'm interested in politics, but how do I get a job in that? Especially one that's gonna pay me something that I can actually live on? I'm great with understanding and talking with people and have a TON of creative energy that isn't getting used, but how do I find an outlet for that?

I have tons of friends who are making significant life changes to follow their passion. One is opening her own law firm, another just opened his own design business and another has quit his job to finish school. My college roommate just got a new job getting to use his skill with numbers in a way that doesn't chain him to a desk and a computer screen everyday. It's time for me to do something (and yes, Faerie Princess, the friggin' Vision Board starts today).

I've been stagnant, because I just don't know where to go from here. I've found a decent income and I've been content to at least have that going for me. I'm no longer willing to let that be enough. The jury has been deliberating for 8 years and I think it's high time for a verdict.

Thank You

I've written before about the detachment I feel about what I post here. It really seems like it's just the laptop and me on the sofa. I get the occasional comment and then it freaks me out a little. I truly forget people read it.

That's probably all changed.

I've been about as overwhelmed as I've ever been with all of the comments here, on Twitter and in person about my last couple of posts. And while I'm a Leo, I don't necessarily crave attention (all that much) and get self conscious pretty rapidly. So, it's been really bizarre for me to get so many kind words (and cookies) from friends both old and new.

I don't take kind words or compliments well. My mind is hard wired to immediately start discrediting them. The boyfriend will attest that I've done a good bit of that and he's been great at stopping me from letting that go too far.

However, I wanted to take a second to just say "thank you" to SO many people. I've been going through a bit of a nasty time and truly each of you who've said or done something has made a significant difference.

I don't want to ramble on here too long, but I just wanted to take a second to let whoever is out there and reading this know that you've made a hard past few days significantly more bearable.